


Fruit Loops

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fluff, Get together fic, I Think I Did it Beautifully, M/M, This Was a Dare, snapshot fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, somewhere along the line, Qrow and James started eating breakfast together. A series of snapshots of their relationship, from conception to marriage, in cereal bowls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fruit Loops

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is... well, it's a fic about cereal. It started as a joke - I told the IDS chat that I could write about cereal and they'd get hyped for it, and they agreed with me. So I ended up being dared to write this fic, which we've all taken to calling Cereal Fic, as a challenge. Two months and almost ten thousand words later, and it's complete.
> 
> Beautiful.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy it!

Early in his days of knowing James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen didn’t think much of him. He was stuffy, stiff, far too into rules, and seemed to look down his nose at Qrow, which Qrow didn’t appreciate.

He was also _ridiculously_ attractive and really, that wasn’t fair. No one that was that much of a dick should make him _want_ dick that badly.

So Qrow mostly ignored the man when it was convenient. Except, this morning, it wasn’t convenient, because James walked into the Beacon staff kitchens where Qrow was eating cereal at the kitchen counter.

James blinked at him, still doe-eyed from sleep and hair slightly sleep ruffled. Qrow scowled over his cereal. _Mused hair?_ So unfair. He watched James pour himself a cup of coffee – black, of course – before seemingly realizing Qrow was in the room.

“Morning,” said Qrow, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. “How are ya?”

“Morning, Branwen,” said James. He leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. Even this early, he was dressed in that stupid Atlas uniform with his white glove.

Qrow shoved another mouthful of fruit loops into his mouth, pleased at the disgusted wrinkle of James’ nose.

“How can you eat that sugar coated garbage?” asked James.

“I have nieces,” said Qrow, swallowing. “This is ninety percent of the cereal in the house.”

James shook his head. “Surely you could eat _something_ healthier?”

Qrow gave James’ coffee a flat look. “Look, Jimmy, when you start eating breakfast, you can question my taste in cereal.” He stood up and put his bowl in the sink, purposely clinking the spoon against it just to see James twitch. He stabbed a finger at James. “Until then, no appetite, no opinion.”

“It’s James,” called James as Qrow left the room.

“Whatever,” Qrow called back.

* * *

 

Qrow was, oddly enough, a bit of a morning person. Part of that came from his work, part of it came from his nature, and most of it came from helping raise a pair of rambunctious toddlers.

The next time Qrow was in Vale, he ended up spending the night to talk to Ozpin the next day. The damn headmaster was up to something – and Qrow didn’t know what – so he was forced to stick around to find out.

Once again, James came into the shared kitchen area near Ozpin’s office, sipping his own coffee this time. Qrow was eating fruit loops again. They were delicious and he liked how they made his milk purple. It reminded him of Yang and Ruby, who always cheered whenever their milk turned colour for anything.

“Morning, Jimborie,” said Qrow.

Narrowed eyes greeted him over the steaming mug of coffee. “It’s James.”

“Whatever.”

James eyed Qrow in disdain as Qrow lifted his bowl to drink his purple milk. When Qrow lowered the bowl, he almost laughed at the look of disgust on James’ face.

“I still can’t believe you eat those,” said James.

“And I can’t believe _you_ don’t believe in breakfast,” said Qrow. “So, we’re even.” He stood and clapped James on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got work to go.”

* * *

 

“Where are they? Where are they?” murmured Qrow, rooting around through the cupboards of the shared kitchen in Beacon. He’d sworn he’d left a box of fruit loops here last time, and he knew he was the only adult in this school that ate them. Glynda preferred eggs, Ozpin liked muffins, and James… didn’t eat breakfast. The sinner.

But, as much as he dug around the cupboards, he couldn’t find the damn box.

“Where is it?” muttered Qrow.

“Looking for these?” Qrow turned to find James leaning in the doorway, greatcoat off and a waistcoat over his turtleneck. In his gloved right hand he held up the red box of breakfast cereal.

Qrow narrowed his eyes. “Those are mine,” he said.

“How can you eat this garbage?” asked James. “It’s disgusting.”

“It’s _my_ breakfast, what do you care?” asked Qrow. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the counter. “Give me back my cereal, Jimmy.”

James scowled. “It’s James, and no. I’m throwing these out for your own good.”

Qrow growled. “Gimme back my fucking fruit loops.”

“No.”

Qrow launched himself at James, lunging for the box and tackling James into the door jab. James held the box as high as he could and held Qrow back with the other hand. They scrambled over each other, trying to get or keep the box.

Then they were thrown apart, and Qrow was left blinking up at James from where he’d fallen against the counter near the door.

Glynda stood between them, her arms folded tight. She was still in her pyjamas – a white nightgown that was shorter than her actual dress, and Qrow noted that James politely averted his eyes from the low neckline.

“What is going on?” asked Glynda.

“He took my fruit loops!” said Qrow.

James said, “They’re going to give him diabetes.”

“I’ll take diabetes over _you_ taking my fucking fruit loops!”

“That’s enough,” said Glynda. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s too early for this. James, give him back his fruit loops. Qrow, try and eat like a regular human being.”

Qrow snagged the box and stuck his tongue out at Glynda. “Joke’s on you, Goodwitch, you and I both know I’m not a regular human being.” He ducked out the door, ignoring James’ confused look as he went.

* * *

 

The next time Qrow saw James at breakfast was almost a year after they’d first been introduced. It was on the battlefield at dawn. Qrow had been stumbling along after killing the last of a pack of Ursae and had found James’ campfire.

Summer Rose had died three days ago.

“I’m afraid I don’t have fruit loops,” said James, when he caught Qrow’s weary, and leery, eye. “But I have coffee and ration bars.”

Qrow dropped down on the opposite side of the fire.

_Summer was dead._

He’d found the body. Seen the damage. She’d leveled an entire village before they’d finally take her. Before whatever it was had finally taken her. Grimm, by the looks of it. Her despair over losing Raven had been too much for them to resist.

“You found her,” said James, simply.

“She’ll be safe where I put her,” said Qrow. “I have to go back to… to get her body.” He licked his lips, mouth dry all of a sudden. “I have a funeral to plan.” He put his head in his hands and sucked in a tight breath.

When he looked up, James was holding out his flask.

“Something tells me you need something stronger than coffee,” said James. Qrow took the flask gratefully and took a long swallow. Whiskey. It burned all the way down.

Together, they sat in silence, passing the flask back and forth, as the sun broke over the horizon.

* * *

 

James and Qrow didn’t see each other much after that. Qrow had a funeral to plan, a brother to comfort, and toddlers to explain the concept of death to. That last one went about as well as he’d expected – read: not very.

As it stood, it was another six months before he and James saw each other again. The two met in Ozpin’s office, not long before the good headmaster showed up to the meeting.

Qrow was nursing a coffee that was more whiskey than anything else. James was sipping from a mug that smelled faintly of chocolate. Mocha? Maybe. He couldn’t tell anymore. His senses were dulled from his perpetual drunken state.

“How’ve you been?” asked James, sipping from his mug.

Qrow hummed and leaned against the glass desk, staring out the window at the early morning sky. His mind was awash with things he’d learned from Ozpin the night before. Half remembered conversations blurring with the amount of alcohol he’d downed.

“That well, huh?” asked James, approaching Qrow. He laid a hand on Qrow’s shoulder and Qrow couldn’t find the energy to shrug it off. “I’m here, if you need anything.”

Qrow took a deep breath. Blinked back the sudden pressure behind his eyes that threatened to spill outward. He hadn’t cried since the night of the funeral. He hadn’t broken since the night of the funeral.

He hadn’t felt much since the night of the funeral.

Qrow turned, set down his flask, and pressed his face into James’ chest. James tensed for a split-second, then wrapped his arms around Qrow and held him close.

“Someday,” murmured James into his hair. “It’ll get better, I promise.”

Qrow said nothing. He just tried, and failed, not to cry. Then pretended he wasn’t anyway.

* * *

 

The next time they shared breakfast, Qrow showed up in James’ apartment at six in the morning. He was tired. He’d flown all night. No one wanted to rent a room for a day to a man half covered in blood he claimed wasn’t his own (bad judgement call, right there).

So he banged on the door of James’ apartment, slumped against the door frame with his eyes drooping and his shoulders lopsided. _God_ he was tired.

The door opened and James stood there, framed by the door frame and still in pyjamas. Qrow stared up at him, their height difference horribly pronounced with how far slumped against the wall he was.

James sighed and stepped back, allowing Qrow to stumble, bleary eyed and squinting, into his ridiculously well-kept apartment.

“I don’t have fruit loops,” said James, watching him stumble. “But I’ve got a shower and some clothes that might fit you.” A pause. “And coffee.”

Qrow whined and slumped against the wall, rubbing at his eyes. Images flashed behind his eyelids whenever they fluttered closed. Grimm. Griffons. Children. Fire. Village.

_Not today, sleep, not today._

“Shower,” said Qrow. “Then everything else.”

 When he got out of the shower – and after he’d taken some time to calm himself down – he wandered back into the living space in clothes slightly too big for him. On the kitchen island were two plates with toast, bacon, and eggs. A steaming mug of coffee rested next to one.

“Ta-da,” said James, softly. He spread his hands – one holding his own coffee. “Cream with five sugars, just like you like it. No cereal but…”

“It’s fine,” said Qrow. It was more than fine. “Thanks, Jim.”

“Anytime,” said James.

* * *

 

James’ laughter split the crisp air in Ozpin’s office early one morning as James and Qrow waited for Ozpin and Glynda. His eyes lit up as he laughed and Qrow caught himself smiling as well.

The half-eaten individual sized boxes of fruit loops sat between them, a peace offering from Qrow after he’d bled all over James’ apartment months ago. James had accepted them with a good-natured roll of his eyes and a query as to whether Qrow had brought individual sized milks.

Qrow had, in fact. The look on James’ face had been worth the struggle of finding them.

“You’re not serious,” said James, the amusement still thick in his voice.

Qrow nodded and held up his hands in surrender. “Oh, but I am. _Three_ barmaids, James. Count ‘em.”

“I fear for the countryside’s taste in men,” said James, drily.

Qrow shrugged and leaned back in his seat, coffee cradled in his hands as he kicked his feet up onto the table. “Not like they have anything to worry about.”

“Oh?” asked James. He reached out and moved the boxes of fruit loops before they got knocked off.

“Yeah, not really my taste,” said Qrow. “Always swung the other way, if you catch my meaning.” He sipped his coffee, eyeing James over the rim of his mug. It wasn’t that he was worried about James’ reaction, but it never paid to be cautious.

A sort of… testing ground, just to be sure.

“Oh,” said James. Then, “Oh!” The realization dawned in his eyes. He cleared his throat and rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face. “Uh, myself as well, actually.”

Qrow smiled into his mug. Yeah, he’d hoped that’d be the response.

The elevator door dinged open and Ozpin and Glynda walked in, leaving that conversation to another time.

* * *

 

Qrow squinted at James as the man walked into the conference room in Atlas, bags under his eyes and a slump to his shoulders. They were meeting with the council today – the Atlas council, not the high council – and Qrow wouldn’t have been there if not for his extensive knowledge of the Atlesian robotic army. Mainly, his knowledge in how to tear them limb from limb without ever being touched.

They really wanted to fix that, apparently. Qrow couldn’t _possibly_ figure out why.

Qrow held out his plastic sandwich bag full of dry fruit loops at the half-asleep James. “Want some?” he asked around a mouthful of his own.

James eyed him carefully, then looked at the bag. After a long moment, he sighed, stuffed his left hand into the bag, and snagged a handful for himself.

They didn’t speak, just leaned against the conference table and munched on fruit loops together as they waited for the others to appear. James offered his coffee to Qrow at one point – Qrow had forgotten his own – and Qrow took a deep drink from it.

The bitterness was coated with a kick of whiskey, and he gave James a surprised look.

“Trust me, you’ll need it for them,” said James, drily.

Qrow smirked. “Likin’ you more and more every day, Jimmy.”

“It’s James.”

“Of course it is.”

* * *

 

“So, how extensive are your prosthetics anyways?” asked Qrow. James looked up from his work at his desk, brow furrowed. When Qrow had appeared in his office in Atlas an hour ago, James had opened the window and let him in without complaint. Qrow had sat there, slurping coffee, with his feet on the edge of James’ desk in silence until that moment.

“Why?” asked James.

Qrow shrugged and set down his travel mug on the desk. It was half full of whiskey at this point, which he knew James had probably noticed. “Curious,” he said. It was in that carefully casual voice he used for missions.

There were a few minutes of silence. Qrow returned to counting the tiles in James’ floor – a hundred and thirty six, but more were hidden – and James went back to his work on his Scroll, signing papers and sending emails, no doubt.

Then, “My entire right side.” He sighed, soft. “Arm, leg, hip, torso.” He shrugged, not looking at Qrow.

“Damn,” said Qrow, soft. He looked at James, head tilted slightly. “When your soldiers said you’d been through hell, they weren’t kidding.”

“No,” said James. “They weren’t.”

Qrow looked at James, saw the hunch of his shoulders and the press of his lips. The furrow of his brow and the clench of his jaw.

“You know it doesn’t make you less of a man, right?” said Qrow, after a moment.

James frowned at him, eyes narrowed. He said nothing.

“You may be a tin man with a metal army,” said Qrow. “But you’re still a man – still alive and breathing and here. Isn’t that what’s important?”

“You’d think,” said James, drily. He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft and eyes vulnerable.

“’Course,” said Qrow. He stood, clapping his hands together. “Dinner?”

“Sure,” said James. “What do you feel like?” He stood as well.

“Breakfast,” said Qrow, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not fruit loops,” said James.

Qrow slumped. “Dang it.”

* * *

 

Hotels, particularly convention hotels, were great for food. Their breakfast buffets, in particular, were one of Qrow’s favourite things. This one had an omelet bar, which Qrow thought was just a fantastic idea.

All things in life should have omelet bars.

He sat down at one of the tables and munched away on his omelet, picking at the mushrooms he’d put into it.

James sat down next to him, pancakes and coffee in his hands. He raised an eyebrow at Qrow, a curious purse to his lips.

“And here I thought all you ate was fruit loops,” said James, an amused twinge in his voice.

Qrow snorted. “Nah, mostly I just do that because you believe it.”

“ _What_?” asked James.

Qrow laughed. “I mean, we’ve known each other for something like two and a half years, Jimmy, and you honest to god thought that all I ate was fruit loops. Do you have any idea how _fucking funny_ that is?” He grinned, breaking off into laughter again.

With a low growl, James shoved Qrow off his seat and onto the floor with one arm. Qrow yelped as he hit the ground and glowered at James.

“Hey!” said Qrow. “Jerk.”

“Ass,” James shot back.

Qrow smirked. “Well, you are what you eat.”

James choked, mouth half full of coffee, and swallowed hard. He coughed and sputtered, banging on his chest to try and clear it. Qrow cackled from the ground.

“You’re _disgusting,_ ” said James.

“I will have you know ass eating is a time honoured tradition of many sexually active gay men,” said Qrow in his most serious voice. He stole James’ top pancake and grinned as he shoved it into his mouth, laughing as James tried – and failed – to recover.

* * *

 

James’ birthday came up quickly for Qrow, who had been trying to figure out what to do for James for weeks. He ended up sneaking into James’ apartment around five in the morning and making him breakfast in bed.

Around seven thirty, he was finished, and he put everything on a tray and walked into James’ bedroom. James stirred as he entered, opening his eyes and squinting at Qrow.

“Qrow?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

Qrow snorted and held up the tray. “You must be really tired if my rummaging around in your kitchen didn’t wake you up.”

James rubbed his eyes as he sat up. The sheet slid down to reveal that James was wearing a white tank top. His metal arm – silver and white and with several glowing blue lights showed. The metal extended onto his shoulder and chest, including a triangle at the centre of his collarbone. Qrow knew he was staring. He couldn’t quite help it. The man was just so… _beautiful._

James drew the blanket back up, looking a little sheepish. Qrow cleared his throat and held up the tray.

“Happy birthday?” he offered.

James blinked. “It’s my birthday?”

“Yup,” said Qrow. He set down the tray on the bed, smiling. “Ta-da!” He gestured to the tray with a flourish. Qrow had prepared pancakes, sausage, and James’ favourite coffee – black, of course.

“No fruit loops?” asked James, sounding amused. He patted the bed next to him and Qrow sat down, stealing one of the sausages. James gave him a flat look and sipped his coffee, humming.

Qrow snorted. “Nah, figured you’d want real food. Although…”

“I’m good,” said James. A pause, then, “Thank you.” His voice was soft, tender. Qrow cleared his throat and looked away.

“S’no problem,” he mumbled.

* * *

 

Weeks passed, days shortened as winter set in, and Qrow stumbled back to Vale sometime around five in the morning after a long mission. It had been mostly recon, until the storms up north had set in, and then the weather had forced him to retreat before he became lost in the wastes as well.

So the mission had been a failure. A complete and total failure. And Qrow was more than a little frustrated. He was tired, soaking wet, and a little beaten up. Not to mention far, far too sober.

He sagged against the wall of his motel, entire body shivering with the cold. He’d shot an information call to Ozpin, telling them to stop by in the morning – with food – for debriefing. Qrow wasn’t going up to that school tomorrow. Not with his injuries and the exhaustion hangover he’d have in the morning. He just wanted sleep.

Far too early in the morning he woke up to a banging on the door. It was too firm, too sharp, to be Ozpin, and, considering they hadn’t knocked down the door, it couldn’t be Glynda. Qrow sighed and peeled himself out of bed, wearing only his boxers. His bruises and scrapes were slowly healing as his aura returned, but he still looked rough.

He opened the door, not bothering with clothes, and came face to face with James Ironwood in a nice turtleneck.

“Qrow,” said James. “Ozpin said you… you’re not wearing pants.” Qrow side-stepped so that James could walk into the room and shut the door. James was very pointedly not looking at Qrow. Instead, his gaze was on the ceiling.

“Why are you here so early?” asked Qrow, leaning against the door.

James still wouldn’t look at him. “Are you going to put on pants?”

“It is six in the morning,” said Qrow, slowly. “You’re not a morning person, so I’m presuming you wanted to get this over with. What, am I interrupting your plans for the day?”

James stared out the dusty, rain streaked window. The sun wasn’t up yet and Qrow doubted it would. It was too cloudy, and the rain was already splattering against it. Leaving the motel room bathed in the dull yellow glow of its single lamp.

“Why are you here so early, Jimmy?” asked Qrow.

James sighed and finally looked at Qrow. He kept his gaze – rather pointedly – on Qrow’s face. Qrow smirked, raising an eyebrow. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door further. _Well_ then.

“Because I was told to be here early and I have a presentation to give at ten and I still need to prepare,” said James. “So, did you have something for me?”

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he would regret later. “This early? Yeah, _no_ ,” said Qrow. He narrowed his eyes and tightened his arms.

James sighed again. “How about breakfast then?” asked James. “Since you’re obviously not in the mood to talk. I’ll buy you something to eat and then ask. Will that suffice?”

Qrow grinned and pushed off the door. He tapped James’ covered chest with one hand. “Now that sounds like something I can get behind.” He leered. “Just let me get dressed.”

James didn’t look at him while Qrow got changed. Nor did he look at him when Qrow pulled on his jacket and scarf and very purposely wriggled his hips. But he placed a hand on the small of Qrow’s back to guide him from the room, and the warmth of his left hand on Qrow’s jacket made Qrow smile.

It was the small victories, after all.

* * *

 

James showed up in Patch a little after Ruby’s sixth birthday, just after dawn. It was Ruby who opened the door and Ruby who shouted “Uncle Qrow!” with that high, shrill scream of hers. Qrow came jogging in, splattered with flour and batter from making pancakes.

“Jim?” asked Qrow, cocking his head. “What are you doing here?”

James held out a basket, a soft smile on his face. “I brought fruit,” he said, by way of explanation. Qrow smiled back and gestured for him to come in. James followed him to the kitchen, Ruby scurrying around them and Yang watching from the couch. Taiyang was outside, cleaning up the yard from last night’s storm with Zwei.

They worked together in comfortable silence, holding only slight conversation when Taiyang walked in.

Breakfast was rambunctious, with James laughing and joking with the girls as they asked about his job. He was secretly a robot, he told them, sent to spy on the human race. And, when they hadn’t believed them, he’d peeled off his glove and wiggled his fingers at them, garnering a shocked gasp from Yang and a “so cool!” from Ruby.

After breakfast, the girls took off outside with Zwei and Taiyang, and Qrow roped James into washing dishes with him. Qrow washed, James dried.

“Qrow,” said James, mid-dish. He waved his free hand near his nose. “You have soap bubbles, here.”

Qrow set down his dish and cloth to swipe at them with his thumb. James shook his head and gestured elsewhere. Qrow tried again.

With a soft laugh, James set down his own dish and cloth and stepped into Qrow’s space. He cupped Qrow’s face in one hand, the right one. It was cool and firm and Qrow stared up at James. Bit his lip as James reached out and swiped the bubbles from his face.

“Got it,” whispered James. The two stared at each other. Qrow’s gaze darted from James’ eyes, to his mouth, and back to his eyes. James took the last half a step in, Qrow reached up and cupped the back of James’ neck. They drew close, breath ghosting each other’s lips. Then, just when Qrow thought they’d be frozen like that forever, James closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Qrow’s.

It wasn’t a deep kiss, or even a particularly long one, and just when Qrow stepped forward into the kiss to deepen it, the back door banged open against the wall and James and Qrow jumped apart just as Yang and Ruby darted into the room.

They grabbed fruit juice boxes and took off again, leaving Qrow and James to stare awkwardly at each other.

“Uh,” said James.

“We should do that again,” said Qrow. When James only smiled, confused but hopeful, Qrow stepped forward and kissed him again.

* * *

 

After the incident with the kitchen, Qrow and James didn’t see each other for almost two months. Qrow worried that perhaps it had been a mistake, but between Ozpin and his missions, he didn’t have time to swing back into Atlas and talk to James.

Until one night, almost two months later, when he climbed in through James’ open apartment window in his crow form and shifted mid-step, falling onto the couch and passing out a moment later.

He awoke with the sun in his eyes and the smell of coffee under his nose. Rubbing at his face, Qrow sat up to find James sitting at the dining table near the couch, sipping coffee and reading on his scroll.

“Morning,” said James.

“Morning,” said Qrow. He pushed himself off the couch and stood, stretching.

“Coffee’s in the pot if you want any,” said James. “No cereal, though.”

Qrow nodded and padded into the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee and dumping in five sugars before he shuffled back into the living area and sat down.

“Still consuming terrible amounts of sugar, I see,” said James. Qrow nodded and blinked hard, rubbing at his eyes. He smelled like ash. He felt like death. The world weighed down on him until he felt like he was drowning.

“Qrow,” said James. He leaned over and put a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Qrow nodded, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t sure why everything was bearing down on him this morning. But it was like a burst dam – exhaustion and fear intermingling into despair.

“Come on,” said James. He stood and pulled Qrow to his feet, leaving their coffees on the table. “I think you could use another nap.” Qrow let himself lean against James, gently sliding his arms around the man’s waist and pressing his face into James’ shoulder.

“Can we just, stay like this?” asked Qrow.

James seemed to pause, then, he slipped his arms around Qrow’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his hair. “Sure,” he said, softly. “No problem.”

* * *

 

“And, furthermore, your actions in Mistral have not gone unnoticed, Mr. Branwen,” said Jorge over the holo conference.

“Well, I’d certainly hope not, I _was_ naked on a parliament building,” said Qrow, drily. He smirked at James’ slight snort. “Now, was there anything else?”

“No,” said Jorge through his teeth. “Not to my knowledge.”

“Bye then,” said Qrow. He hung up the call and turned to look at James. They were standing in James’ office, a bowl of strawberries on the desk from when Qrow had brought them in. As James watched, Qrow plucked up a strawberry and ran it around his lips before slipping it into his mouth.

As he swallowed, he twirled the green top of the strawberry around in his fingers, a twinkle in his eye.

“So,” he said, noticing James’ flushed expression. “Breakfast?”

James cleared his throat. “I’m picking the place,” he said.

“Sure,” said Qrow. “But you’re buying.”

James chuckled and stepped forward, his mouth hovering a few inches from Qrow’s. Qrow wound his arms around James’ neck and dragged him in, lips pressed tightly together as James pulled him close.

When they pulled back, James licked his lips, slow and a little absent. “Sweet,” he commented.

“Unlike me,” quipped Qrow.

“Mmm,” said James. He kissed Qrow again. “Depends on the context.” And he wound his fingers with Qrow’s and dragged them out for breakfast, both of them laughing the entire way.

* * *

 

Qrow awoke to a mouth on his throat and a hand sliding down his front toward his naked hips. He groaned, wriggling into the touch as he opened his eyes. James smiled down at him, his mouth shifting to Qrow’s collarbone and then to his chest.

“Mm,” said Qrow, arching slightly off the sheets. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just felt like it,” murmured James. His cool right hand slid down Qrow’s side, ghosting along the inside of his hip.

Qrow chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said James, dropping another kiss to Qrow’s chest. “How do you feel about breakfast in bed?”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “You going to cook in a hotel room?”

“No,” said James. Another kiss. “I thought,” Another kiss. “I’d call,” Another kiss. “Room service.” A kiss with a graze of teeth. Qrow groaned, eyes fluttering as his face flushed hot. “Then we don’t have to stop until they get here.”

“Get fruit loops,” said Qrow.

James chuckled against his abs. “Of course,” he breathed. And then James was pressing one last kiss to his stomach before swinging off the bed, naked as the day he was born, to grab the phone.

Qrow grinned and settled back to enjoy the view. He could get used to this.

* * *

 

Qrow watched as Ruby – now seven years old – squinted at James over breakfast. She ate her pancakes with deliberate slowness, each chew perfectly marking the tension in her jaw as she studied James. It was a hilarious image, an angry seven-year-old glaring at a grown war general, who was slowly looking more and more terrified as the meal went on.

Taiyang and Yang both took it in stride, discussing a new movie they’d both been watching.

“You’re dating my uncle,” said Ruby after a long time.

James cleared his throat. “Yes,” he said.

She hummed and stabbed another pancake piece with strictly more force than necessary. “I see.” Another long pause. James looked at Qrow with a searching gaze, eyes wide and terrified and pleading. Qrow only grinned and kept eating his own breakfast. “Why?”

Qrow paused and set down his fork. He and James glanced from each other to Ruby.

James cleared his throat. “What?” he asked.

“Why?” asked Ruby again. “Do you love him?”

A flush crept its way up James’ neck and he swallowed visibly. Taiyang and Yang had both stopped eating to watch. Qrow tried not to let his worry show, even as he chewed on the inside of his cheek to fight against the fear in his chest.

“Yes,” said James. He looked from Ruby to Qrow and back again. “I do, very much.” Qrow felt his chest loosen. He exhaled softly.

“Why?” asked Ruby.

“Because he’s kind and intelligent,” said James. “He has a great sense of humour and a way with words. He’s an incredible Huntsman, and an incredible person.” He was looking at Qrow now as he spoke. “He’s always been there for me, even when he didn’t like me. And I’ve tried to do the same for him. We support each other, Ruby, and there’s no one in the world I like better.”

Ruby tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowed. “Okay,” she said.

James and Qrow looked at each other again.

“Okay?” echoed James.

Ruby nodded. “Okay.” She stabbed her fork at James, a syrup-dripping piece of pancake skewered to the end of it. “But if I’m not in your wedding, I’m gonna throw the _biggest_ temper tantrum.”

James laughed, soft and surprised. “Of course, Ruby,” he said. “If we get married.”

“You better,” said Ruby, voice as low as she could – which meant it was still pretty squeaky. “Or else.”

James looked at Qrow and smiled, a twinkle in his eye, and Qrow smiled back, laughing under his breath.

* * *

 

“What do you think?” asked James, holding up the two shirts. “Charcoal or slate?” He moved the shirts back and forth across his undershirt covered torso.

Qrow squinted at them. “They’re the same colour.”

James sighed, a low, long-suffering thing that told Qrow exactly what he thought of that statement. “Oh, Qrow,” he said. “They’re completely different shades.” He held up one shirt. “This one is a cool grey.” He held up the other shirt. “While this one is a warm grey. They require different accessories and accent colours.”

Qrow squinted further. “I still don’t see the difference,” he said. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at James, upside down. “Besides, it’s eight in the morning, why are you picking shirts for tonight’s gala already?”

James sighed again and Qrow rolled his eyes. “Because, unlike some people, I’m expected to look my best.”

“Hey,” protested Qrow. “I always look my best. You dress me.”

“When you let me,” said James, drily.

Qrow rolled back onto his stomach and hummed, looking up at James with hooded eyes. “True,” said Qrow, voice low. “I would much rather be letting you _un_ dress me.”

With a shake of his head, James chuckled. “You’re a menace,” he said. He put down the shirts just as there was a knock on the hotel room door.

“Room service!” called a voice.

James smiled. “What about breakfast first, _then_ ravishing?” he asked.

Qrow grinned. “Sounds good to me."

* * *

 

Qrow groaned and let his head fall onto the table, further strengthening the headache between his eyes. He groaned again.

“That just sounds obscene,” said James, walking into the room. He set a coffee down next to Qrow – curiously dark – and sat down across from him. “Hangover?”

“Yup,” said Qrow. He groaned again and rubbed his fingers through his hair, cursing softly. “God, my head hurts.”

James chuckled, and even that, usually warm and soothing, sent spikes through Qrow’s skull. “I told you not to try and outdrink Glynda, but you didn’t listen.”

“Why can that woman hold alcohol so well?” whined Qrow, lifting his head. He winced at the light. His stomach lurched at the movement.

“No idea,” said James, though his pitch told otherwise. Qrow scowled at him. “How do you feel about breakfast?”

Qrow groaned as his stomach lurched again. He wrapped one arm around it and tried not to curse. “Pleas don’t mention food.”

James leaned across the table and grinned at him, all predatory. “Fruit loops.”

Qrow clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted for the bathroom, James’ laughter following him all the way down the hall.

* * *

 

Qrow clicked on the bedside lamp and squinted at the clock. It was three in the morning, or a little after, anyway, and a light was on under the bedroom door. He got up, double checking that he was wearing pants, and padded into the hallway.

It was the kitchen light that was on, and James was busying himself with rolling out bread dough. Qrow sniffed and hummed. Apple tarts in the oven then. One of his favourite things.

“What’s going on?” asked Qrow. “When did you get home?”

“About twenty minutes ago,” said James. Qrow slipped his arms around James’ waist and nuzzled him between the shoulder blades. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Qrow hummed. “Everything okay?” he asked.

James set down the dough and turned in Qrow’s arms, leaning back against the counter. He brought his flour covered hands up to cup Qrow’s face and kissed him softly. When they pulled back, his eyes were warm and a little sad.

“Doctor Polendina visited my office today,” said James. “He had quite the proposal.”

“Oh?” asked Qrow. He ran his hands down James’ covered chest. The greatcoat was off, but the button up and waistcoat were still on.

“He wants to create life,” said James.

Qrow wrinkled his brow. “He just needs a decent egg donor then, doesn’t he?” he asked.

James chuckled. “Not like that,” he said, voice strangely hesitant. “He wants to create an aura, artificially.” He licked his lips. “He wants to bring an android to life.”

Qrow stared. “Is… is that even possible?”

“I have no idea,” said James, voice breathy. “But, I’m going to try.” He smiled at Qrow and pressed a kiss to his nose. “I might just end up with a child after all.”

Qrow smiled. “For your sake, I hope you manage it,” said Qrow. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” said James. “Now, help me with these tarts. Looks like we’ll be eating breakfast at three, this morning.”

Qrow chuckled. “Fine by me, I fucking love apple tarts.”

* * *

 

They’d been dating a little over three years when Qrow walked out into the kitchen to find a box of fruit loops waiting for him. Qrow smiled. After he’d moved in with James, he’d basically given up fruit loops. The man hated them, despite eating them several times in the last few years, and Qrow had figured it was only fair to keep the sugary goodness safe from James’ health eating cleaning frenzies.

But there it was, a box of fruit loops with a post-it note stuck to it. Qrow crossed the room and plucked up the note, reading it over.

 _“Qrow, sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up, I had some work to do. Love you, James,”_ it read. Qrow smiled and went to get a bowl and the milk. Looked like he was eating alone today, but James would be back soon, he always was.

* * *

 

Qrow and James rarely awoke early enough on days where they had nothing to do to get breakfast outside their home, but today was one of those lucky days. They’d headed to their favourite little breakfast place, a little hole in the wall in Atlas, not far from their apartment.

They’d only just received their breakfasts when Qrow noticed the pinched look in James’ expression. He frowned, stabbing absently at a waffle, and waved his free hand in front of James’ vacant eyes.

“Jim?” he asked. “You all right?”

“Do you miss teaching?” asked James.

Qrow blinked. “What?”

“Do you miss teaching?” James repeated. “I know, since you moved in, you haven’t taught at Signal nearly as much because of the commute, and I was wondering if you missed it. Missed doing more than just missions.”

Qrow thought about it. He’d gone down to being a part-time teacher, only there to teach for four or five weeks at a time. It wasn’t that he necessarily minded – it was his choice to stop teaching full-time – but he did miss the classroom. Especially with how rare his long distance missions were becoming as Ozpin recruited more spies to look after the world.

“Yeah,” said Qrow. “But I don’t mind. I like Atlas. It’s stuffy, little stark, but I like it.” He nodded. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

And that much was true. Sure, he missed teaching full-time, and sure, he missed Vale and Patch at times, but when he left, he always missed James more. It was one thing to be away for a few weeks or two or three months, he could handle that. But a whole semester? A whole year? He’d tried, before, and it hadn’t worked out. He missed James too much. Missed the comfortable domesticity they’d fallen in to too much.

And god, he sounded like an old fool, didn’t he? But he did miss it. So he always came back, no matter how far he’d gone.

But really, he wasn’t a home body type and online teaching just was not enough.

“What if you taught at Atlas?” asked James.

Qrow blinked. “ _What?_ ” he asked.

“Atlas. We need a new instructor for the semester. I could bring you in for the semester, see how you do.” James was smiling as he spoke. “We could work together.”

“Is that even allowed?” asked Qrow.

James chuckled. “Technically? Yes. Because of how military rankings work in Atlas, you are permitted to work alongside and hire your significant others provided they hold similar rank.”

“And I’m the equivalent of a general?” asked Qrow, teasing.

“More like a colonel,” said James. “But it’s a rank, and not a terribly low one at that.” He hesitated, looking down at his food and holding his fork tightly. “I’ve thought about it quite a bit, Qrow, but you don’t have to say yes.”

Qrow chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You know I’m not exactly conventional,” he said.

“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for,” said James. “We could use a little unconventional in Atlas.”

Qrow smiled. “All right, then.” He laughed and rubbed at his neck. “Why not? Let’s do this.”

James smiled back with all the force of a summer sun, and Qrow felt his chest constrict. Yeah, he’d made the right decision.

* * *

 

Three weeks into the semester and Qrow didn’t know how James did it. The dress code, the salutes, the constant addressing by rank. It was all a little much. And, quite frankly, there was only one circumstance in which white was his colour, and this wasn’t it.

Qrow scowled in the mirror for the approximately twelfth time that morning. His full Atlas uniform had finally come in, making him shift from the combination of mostly grey and some white to mostly white and some blue and grey.

He tugged at the jacket again. At least it had tails, like his shirt. Even if they made him look more like a dressed-up duck than a carrion bird. He scowled deeper, eyes narrowed at his mostly white costume.

White _definitely_ was not his colour in this circumstance. _Definitely._

“I look like an idiot,” said Qrow.

James chuckled and slipped up behind him, already dressed. He wrapped his arms around Qrow’s middle and kissed his throat. “I don’t know, I like it.”

“You would, they’re your colours,” said Qrow, rolling his eyes.

“Mm,” said James. “It helps that I designed the outfit.” He ran his hands up and down Qrow’s sides, peppering kisses along his throat and jaw. “You look…”

“Ravishing?” offered Qrow.

James chuckled again. “Ravishing,” he agreed. “I like that one.”

Qrow sighed and tilted his head back, letting James’ mouth follow the curve of his jaw and throat, despite the damned collar on this jacket. “Don’t suppose we can skip work and get straight to the good part?”

“I’m afraid not,” said James. He drew back, dropping one last kiss to Qrow’s cheek. “How about breakfast? We have time before classes start.”

Qrow gave a put upon sigh and folded his arms. “Fine,” he said. “But you’re buying.”

“Of course,” said James.

* * *

 

Qrow rolled the little box over in his hands, staring at it like it held all the secrets of the universe. The sun wasn’t up yet, and he sat on a stool, leaned against the kitchen island in the mostly-dark of the room.

Inside that box was a little silver ring, inlayed with a sapphire the exact shade of James’ eyes. He’d spent months saving up for it, pocketing every spare lien he had. And now he had the ring, he had the speech, and he had no idea what to do.

There was a noise from the bedroom and Qrow shoved the little box into the pocket of his sweatpants and tried not to look guilty.

James appeared a moment later, wearing only sweatpants and rubbing at his eyes. “Qrow?” His voice was raspy and low with sleep, sending a pleasant chill up Qrow’s spine. “What’re you doing up so early?”

Qrow shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Figured I’d make coffee.”

James glanced at the coffee pot, which sat slumbering on the counter, empty and dark. He raised an eyebrow at Qrow. Qrow felt himself flush.

“It’s not a big deal, Jim. Go back to sleep,” said Qrow. The box was impossibly heavy in his pocket.

James sighed and padded into the kitchen, pressing a kiss to Qrow’s hair before passing him to start on coffee. “I’ll make breakfast,” he said. “Are the nightmares worse?”

“No,” said Qrow. “They’ve uh, they’ve been getting better since I started working full-time again.”

“I’m glad,” said James.

Qrow watched as James started on breakfast – cinnamon egg toast and some fresh fruit. As he did, the sun slowly peaked in through the balcony doors, and Qrow watched the light spread across the kitchen and bathe James in an ethereal glow that the fluorescents never quite managed.

“Marry me,” he said, voice soft and sudden.

James froze. So did Qrow. They stared at each other.

“What?” asked James.

“Marry me,” repeated Qrow. “We live together, we work together. I moved to a god damn different _continent_ for you. Marry me.”

James stared at Qrow long enough that Qrow wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. Then, slowly, his mouth curled into a grin and his eyes lit up in a way Qrow had never seen before. “Yes!” he said, a laugh falling out of him. He crossed the room and scooped Qrow up in his arms, kissing him deeply. “God, Qrow, _yes_.”

Qrow grinned and dragged James down for another kiss before digging the box out of his pocket. When they pulled back, James stared down at the box and his grin widened. Qrow flipped it open.

“Ta-da,” he said.

James rested their foreheads together, grinning so hard there were tears in his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” whispered Qrow, and he slipped the ring on James’ finger.

* * *

 

Wedding planning was done mostly over meals, as James’ work with Doctor Polendina and Qrow’s work within the school began to overwhelm all else. They managed to secure a planner, a date, and a venue, and then everything else slowly got dragged off to the planner. It wasn’t on purpose, but it was simply how it turned out.

And James was slowly exhausting himself as work on Project PENNY came to an end, so Qrow didn’t mind letting things get handed off. He did, however, mind that James was slowly exhausting himself.

So, one morning, he made James a simple breakfast and brought it in to him with his coffee, nudging him awake. James smiled blearily as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning,” he rasped.

“Morning,” said Qrow. He set down the tray on the bed and kissed James’ cheek. “Did you get some rest?”

“Yeah,” said James. He picked up his coffee – black – and took a few gulps from it. “In a few more months, Dr. Polendina and I will know if the project will be successful or a waste of time.” He smiled at Qrow. “I’m excited.”

“So am I,” said Qrow. He flicked James’ nose. “And not just because I’ll get you back just in time for our wedding.”

James laughed and tugged Qrow in for a kiss, grinning all the while.

* * *

 

A few weeks before the wedding, Qrow woke up sicker than a dog. He scrambled out of bed and to the bathroom just in time to vomit, then crawled across the bathroom floor to lean against the cool porcelain of the tub.

He drifted in and out of it for a while, heaving as needed only to settle back against the tub afterward. His entire body was shaking and shivering, his skin alternating between hot and cold. Every inch of him hurt and all he wanted was to crawl back into bed alongside James and sleep it all off.

Qrow drifted again, slumped against the tub, and didn’t wake properly until James came into the room holding two pills and a glass of water.

“Take them, it’ll make you feel better,” said James. Qrow did, drinking the water slowly and carefully. When he set it down, James settled on the floor next to him. Qrow curled against his right side, the cold a welcome relief against his fevered skin.

“I take it you don’t want breakfast?” asked James into his hair.

Qrow shuddered. “Please don’t mention food,” he murmured. “Please.”

“Okay,” said James. He slipped his metal arm around Qrow’s bare shoulders and pulled him close. He kissed Qrow’s hair and let him rest, and Qrow let himself sleep until the next time his stomach decided to pitch a fit.

* * *

 

James handed the fruit loops to Qrow when he stumbled out into the kitchen that morning. Qrow mumbled his thanks and poured a bowl, watching as James hurried around the apartment like a Nevermore without a head.

“What’s up?” asked Qrow.

James turned and flashed him a brilliant smile. “Dr. Polendina just called. The experiment was a success. Penny is beginning to produce an aura!” He scooped Qrow into his arms, making Qrow thankful he hadn’t added milk to his cereal yet, and kissed him until Qrow saw stars.

“This is amazing,” said James. “Qrow, I made a person.”

Qrow smiled at him. “That’s fantastic. Go, see her.”

James nodded, dropped another kiss to Qrow’s lips, and took off. Qrow watched him go, then went and got milk for his cereal. He wondered when he’d get to meet Penny.

* * *

 

Gentle laughter filled the apartment as Qrow chatted with Ruby and Yang back at Signal Academy. Yang would be starting Beacon in two years, and Qrow knew she was excited.

“So, the wedding is this weekend, yeah?” asked Yang.

Qrow nodded. Ruby grinned at him with all the exuberance of a thirteen-year-old.

“Ah, that’s so cool!” she said. “I’m so excited.”

“I still can’t believe you picked Dad to be your best man,” said Yang, folding her arms and pouting a bit.

Qrow rolled his eyes and flicked a fruit loop into his mouth. “You got to be a groomsman, didn’t you?”

She smirked. “True,” she said. “Are you eating fruit loops?”

“Yup,” said Qrow. He popped another one into his mouth. “Still like ‘em.”

“So do I,” said Ruby.

Behind Qrow, the apartment door opened and James came in.

“Hi, Uncle James,” said Ruby and Yang in union. James looked up, brow furrowed, and his whole face softened when he saw Ruby and Yang on the scroll.

“Hey, girls,” he said. “How’re things?”

“Great!” said Ruby. “Dad’s making breakfast.”

James padded up to Qrow and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Something healthier than fruit loops, I hope.”

“Waffles,” said Ruby. “With syrup.”

“Delicious,” said James. He settled in next to Qrow and the four chatted for a while, with James stealing Qrow’s fruit loops when he thought Qrow wasn’t looking.

* * *

 

Qrow met Penny over breakfast two days before the wedding. She was a cute girl, with chin-length red hair and more freckles than Qrow could possibly count, and her eyes were vibrant and full of life as she took in the apartment.

Qrow was glad he’d remembered to wear pants that morning.

“Penny, this is Qrow, my fiancé,” said James, smiling at Qrow.

“Hey, Penny, nice to meet you,” said Qrow, holding out his hand. Penny studied it for a second, then reached out and shook it. She smiled at him, a little tight, a little hesitant, but genuine all the same.

“It is nice to meet you too, Mr. Qrow,” said James.

“You, uh, you like fruit loops?” asked Qrow, holding out the box.

Penny tipped her head to one side. “Technically, I do not have to eat, but I will try them,” said Penny. Qrow poured a few into her hands. She popped one in her mouth, chewed slowly, and gave a slight smile. “These are delicious. I enjoy them.”

Qrow grinned and settled back in his seat. “Kid, we’re gonna get along great.”

* * *

 

The morning of the wedding, Qrow and James sat together, eating room service at their hotel. The two laughed and smiled at one another, discussing nothing terribly important as they waited for the time to get ready. Glynda and their planner were handling everything, which meant James and Qrow had the morning to themselves.

“So, after today, we’ll be married,” said Qrow, grinning. “That’s pretty fantastic.”

James reached across the table and took Qrow’s hand, smiling as he did. “It really is,” he agreed. “But I don’t think much will change. We’ve been living together for years, your nieces call me Uncle, I don’t think all that much will be different.”

Qrow hummed and tangled their fingers together. “I can think of a few things,” he said, grinning. “Like how Atlas will be making me a Major, or how Winter’s gonna pitch a fit when she sees me wearing a wedding ring.”

“You think?” asked James.

Qrow hummed and got up, circling the small table to drop onto James’ lap and wind his arms around James’ neck. He rested their foreheads together, still grinning. “Yeah,” he said, voice soft as a breath. “Or how after today, you’ll be General James Branwen.”

“Mm,” said James, running his hands down Qrow’s side to linger at his hips. “I’m looking forward to that part most of all.”

“Still don’t know why you’re changing your name,” said Qrow, his breath ghosting James’ lips.

“My name has no significance to me,” said James, kissing Qrow lightly. “Yours does. And I want to share a name with you, my Qrow. It means the world to me.”

Qrow laughed, grinning all the while. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” said James, nodding.

Qrow slid his hands up to tangle them in James’ hair. “You’re a sap,” he said.

“Yes,” agreed James. “But I’m your sap.”

“Yeah, you are,” said Qrow. And he kissed James again.

* * *

 

Qrow awoke on the first morning of his honeymoon to James on the phone. He was speaking in low tones, leaning naked against one of the walls in the hotel room. When he saw Qrow, he flashed a smile at him, before returning to his phone call.

When he hung up, Qrow scooted across the bed to drag James back down onto it, and wrapped his arms around James’ shoulders, leaning forward over his back.

“Who was that?” asked Qrow, kissing James’ ear.

“Room service,” said James. He hummed and tilted his head, letting Qrow pepper kisses down his neck and onto his collarbone. Qrow slid his hands along James’ chest, reveling in the alternating warm and cold.

“Oh?” asked Qrow. He nipped lightly at James’ back, debating if he had time to shove James down onto the bed for a little fun before room service showed up.

James chuckled. “I thought it was only appropriate that we begin our married relationship the same way we began our initial relationship.”

Qrow paused. How had they started talking, anyway? He could vaguely remember. It had been…

“You didn’t,” said Qrow, grinning.

“Oh, I did,” said James. “I told the story to the manager and she thought it was fantastic.”

“Fruit loops,” said Qrow, shaking his head. “You don’t even _like_ fruit loops.”

James shifted around so that Qrow was sprawled in his lap instead of across his back. He slid his arms around Qrow’s waist and drew him close.

“What can I say?” said James. “I changed my opinion on them.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and Qrow felt himself smile, unable to find words to reply to such a sentence.

Instead, he leaned forward and kissed James, treasuring the moment, and his new husband, until room service showed up.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr.](http://anipendragon.tumblr.com/)


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